


cactus blossoms

by LovelyLessie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Autistic Adam (Voltron), Autistic Character, Autistic Shiro (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Gen, Jewish Adam (Voltron), Jewish Character, Jewish Holt Family (Voltron), Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLessie/pseuds/LovelyLessie
Summary: (or, some can only bloom with water from the desert sky.) Adam needs some support while he recovers from a surgery, and Shiro volunteers to be his best friend's roommate for the summer after their first year in the Garrison. Somehow, it turns out he's not the only one Adam gets a chance to get closer to, and an operation isn't the only thing he's recovering from. (pre-relationship, but no romance will be in this.) [temporary hiatus, will return soon.]
Relationships: Adam & Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter warnings: some discussion of transphobia

He knocks on the door and shoves his hands in his pockets as he waits, trying to keep his uneasy fidgeting from revealing how worried he is. A moment passes, then two, and he rocks slightly where he stands, his throat feeling tight. 

Just when he’s beginning to think maybe he should come back later, the door opens, and Adam blinks back at him with a frown. He’s been crying, Shiro realizes, his eyes rimmed with red behind his glasses, his face drawn and ashen. “Hey,” he says, shifting uncomfortably as he looks down. “What’s going on?” 

“Are you alright?” Shiro asks, feeling a pang in his chest. “I don’t want to bother you, but you didn’t show up to study, so I just…wanted to check if everything was okay.” 

“I’m fine,” Adam says, and gives him a shaky smile. 

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Uh,” he says. “You sure?” 

Adam’s laugh is weak and forced. “I’ll be okay,” he says. “I just… got some bad news today, that’s all.” 

“Aw, man,” Shiro says, his brows drawing together. “You wanna talk about it?” 

“I—“ Adam begins, and sighs. “It’s nothing. Well, nothing important.” 

“You’re upset about it,” Shiro protests, frowning. “That’s important to me.” 

Adam hesitates, looking around. “Do you… want to come in?” he asks after a moment. 

“You don’t mind?” Shiro asks, a little surprised. 

Adam shakes his head. “No, it’s okay,” he says, and steps back from the door, waiting by the control panel to close it behind him as Shiro comes inside. 

His quarters are tiny and tidy, everything organized just so, and Shiro isn’t sure if it’s alright to sit down, so he leans against the wall beside the dresser as Adam crosses the room and drops down, with a sigh, onto the edge of his bed. There’s no top bunk or second dresser, Shiro notices, surprised, but the single room is barely a fraction of the size of the double quarters he's used to. 

“So, what’s going on?” Shiro asks. “Even if you don’t think it’s a big deal, I’m here to listen if it’ll help.” 

Adam shakes his head, pressing his hands against his knees the way he does when he’s upset and trying not to show it. “You remember how I mentioned I had medical paperwork to work on?” he says without looking up. 

“Are they saying they won’t cover something?” Shiro asks, leaning forward. “I bet they can’t, I can help you appeal it, if it’s covered by—“ 

“No, um, they’ll cover the procedure,” Adam says, hunching his shoulders. “But I’m not gonna be able to get it done this summer, I guess.” 

“Oh,” Shiro says, frowning. “Why not?” 

Adam swallows hard, looking away. “It’s - they consider it an intensive recovery. Which I guess it will be. I can’t stay on base after unless I have someone sign this ‘temporary medical assistance’ form.” 

“You don’t want to recover from surgery at  _ home?” _ Shiro asks. “I mean - I’m not judging, or anything, sorry, I just…” 

His laugh is sharp at the edges, a bitter biting sound that makes Shiro flinch. “My parents don’t know I’m having it done. And I don’t think they’d help me out much if I  _ did _ go home.” 

“Your parents don’t… know?” Shiro asks, his frown growing deeper. “They won’t help you after you have  _ surgery?”  _

“Well,” Adam sighs, and glances over at him before quickly turning away again. “I had to threaten them to get them to use my  _ name _ , and I’m pretty sure they still don’t when I’m not around.” He hunches his shoulders, ducks his head towards the floor. “So I’m not sure I really want to tell them I’m getting my  _ breasts  _ removed.” 

_ Oh.  _ Shiro sucks in a breath through his teeth, grimacing. He’d wondered if Adam was trans, but it had always seemed like it would be invasive to ask. “Shit, Adam, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know they were… that bad.” 

“They’re not, really,” Adam says, shrugging. “Only about that.” 

That sounds bad enough, but Shiro decides that pointing that out probably wouldn’t be helpful. “So they won’t let you stay on base unless someone signs this thing?” he asks instead. “Who’s gotta sign it?” 

“Someone who lives on base, I guess,” Adam says. “Who I can room with so they can check in with me, but I’m not close to any of the instructors like you are, so I don’t…” 

His voice trembles and he trails off, his shoulders shaking a little as he sniffs and swallows hard. 

“I don’t know who to ask,” he finishes quietly. “And if i can’t get it done this summer, it’ll have to wait until I’m finished training, and I’ll probably need to take a roommate for a year so I can get it done then but—“ 

He breaks off and covers his mouth with one hand, but not quite quickly enough to muffle a sob. “Oh, Adam,” Shiro says, feeling his heart break a little. 

“Sorry,” he whispers through his fingers. “I didn’t want to—“ 

“It’s okay,” Shiro says, wondering if it would be too familiar to hug him. “That sucks, it’s okay to cry about it if you need to.” 

“It’s just so  _ frustrating,” _ Adam chokes out. “I thought I’d be able to get it done this summer and be back on my feet when term started back up in the fall, and now—now…” 

“I’m really sorry,” Shiro says again, feeling helpless. He wants to at least go sit with Adam, but he’s not sure how to ask if it’s alright. 

Adam takes a shaky breath and sets his shoulders, pulling off his glasses to scrub at his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, and wraps his arms around himself. 

“Hey,” Shiro says, “did they give you a copy of that form? The medical assist one?” 

“Yeah, but I haven’t read through it yet,” he says thickly. “I’m too tired to even look at it right now.” 

“Give me your tablet,” Shiro says. “I’ll sign it.” 

“You - what?” Adam asks, turning to look up at him, his glasses crooked where he shoved them back on in a hurry. “I don’t…” 

“If I stay on base over the summer too, I can help you out, right?” he says. “It’ll be cool. We’re already friends, it would be fun to be roommates, even if it’s just for a couple months while you’re in recovery.” 

“Aren’t you going to go see your family?” Adam asks, worry and confusion written across his face. 

He shrugs. “They can come visit me here. Stay in town, in a hotel like on a nice vacation.” 

“I’m not sure they’ll even let you,” Adam says. “I don’t know if they’ll consider you eligible, you’re only seventeen still.” 

“Well, the worst that can happen is they reject the form,” Shiro points out. “Let me sign it, at least, and we’ll see what happens.” 

Adam is still staring at him, eyes wide and mouth half-open. He makes a sound like he’s trying to laugh. “You’re really serious,” he says. “You actually mean it.” 

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t,” Shiro says, frowning, and drops his gaze to the floor. “I mean, it’s okay if you’re not comfortable with that, I get it, if that’s the issue it’s fine, but you can just  _ tell _ me—“ 

He doesn’t get to finish, because before he even has a chance to see him move, Adam throws himself at him so hard it knocks the air out of his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline with both arms around his neck. “ _ Thank _ you,” he chokes out, and sobs, burying his face in Shiro’s shoulder. 

“Oh,” is all Shiro can manage to say for a second as he hugs Adam as tightly as he can. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s not a big deal, really.” 

“Shut up,” Adam says, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “It is to me.” 

“Well, yeah, of course it is,” Shiro says. “I just meant - it’s not any trouble for me, to help you out.” 

Adam straightens, grinning crookedly as he tries to dry the tears on his cheeks. “Sorry,” he manages. “It’s just been a tough day.” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Shiro assures him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You  _ do _ need to give me your tablet so I can sign that form, though.” 

He laughs, shaky but genuine, and turns to grab it off his desk and pull up his messages. 

Shiro takes it when he holds it out, unclips the stylus as he skims the terms of the document. _By signing below you indicate that you will reside with the patient for the expected duration of recovery_ six weeks _and understand that they may need assistance with restricted tasks which may include…_ He glances over the checked items on the list, nods, and scrawls his name at the bottom of the form. 

When he looks up Adam is trying to wipe tears from his eyes again, but he’s still smiling, too. “Are you really sure about this?” he asks as he takes the tablet back, his hands shaking a little. “I mean, I don’t want to submit it if you aren’t sure.” 

“I’d submit it myself if it didn’t need your name on it, too,” Shiro says. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure.” 

“Okay,” Adam agrees, and signs the form. 

“And hey, if they don’t approve me, I’ll help you find someone else you can ask,” Shiro tells him. “We can figure something out.”

Adam nods as he taps on his tablet a couple times, and then tosses it onto the bed, his shoulders sagging. “Thanks, Shiro,” he says, and glances down at the floor. “Hey, is it - is it okay if I hug you again? Sorry I didn’t ask before, I…”

“Any time, man,” Shiro assures him, holding his arms open, and Adam laughs softly, coming closer to pull him into a tight embrace. 


	2. Chapter 2

_Three days later_.

He doesn’t have to ask to know something’s wrong when Adam comes storming into the classroom and _slams_ down his bag on the table, refusing to so much as glance over at him. Shiro tries to get his attention from across the room, but he’s staring fixedly straight ahead, and doesn’t respond. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says immediately when Shiro catches up with him in the hall after class. “Leave me alone.”

“I said I’d help,” Shiro protests, trailing a few steps behind him. 

“I don’t need your help!” Adam snaps without looking at him. “Just forget about it, it’s not going to happen.”

“There’s gotta be someone else you can ask!” Shiro says. “Come on, you must be on good terms with _one_ of your instructors--”

Adam turns on his heel to face him, clinging to the strap of his bag with both hands; there’s a flush of anger in his cheeks, but his eyes are glistening as if he might cry. “I don’t want to ask anyone else,” he says. “I’m not telling some _stranger_ about this. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” Shiro says, folding his arms. “Don’t be stupid, Adam, you can’t give up that easy on something important.”

Adam glares back at him for a long moment before his rigid shoulders slump and he sighs. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he asks quietly. 

Shiro gives him a small smile. “Sure, I do,” he says. “I just know it’s usually not when other people tell me I have to.”

The corner of Adam’s mouth twitches up just slightly, and Shiro grins. 

“Come on,” he says. “Why don’t we go talk about it in your room?” 

* * *

“This is some _bullshit_ ,” Shiro announces, setting Adam’s tablet down on the floor. “Weren’t you planning to stay here for the summer anyways?” 

“Yeah,” Adam says, “but when I petitioned it was for a single.” He’s laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Technically I’m already assigned quarters for the summer, but they can’t just shove you in mine.” 

“So if I petition for summer training too, and request you as my roommate, would that work?” Shiro muses aloud. “Sam would sign me off, I bet.”

“I don’t know if I have time for you to try,” Adam sighs. “If I don’t get the procedure scheduled soon, I won’t be ready to go back to training in the fall. I’ll get behind.” 

“ _Ugh,”_ Shiro groans, running his fingers through his hair so it sticks up in every direction. “So you’re going to have to ask someone who’s already petitioned, or an officer.” 

“Or a third year,” Adam says. “Third year cadets get quarters assigned, since they don’t get summers off anymore.” His voice is flat and emotionless, as if this is some hypothetical problem, something detached from him.

“Yeah, but they’re still going to be in cadets’ quarters, so they’ll already have roommates,” he says. “Officers get quarters of their own.” 

“It doesn’t matter either way,” Adam replies. “I don’t know anyone else.”

“Okay, I know you’re not _friends_ with any of your instructors,” Shiro says, “but you still _know_ them. Aren’t there any of them you could talk to?”

“Not about this--” he begins, turning his head to look over at Shiro.

“You don’t have to tell them what you’re getting _done!”_ Shiro says, a little exasperated. “Just that you need assistance, the form doesn’t say--”

“I’m not asking my teachers for help, Shiro,” Adam says again. 

Shiro sighs, slumps back against the side of the desk. “Come on, man, work with me a little. What do you think is gonna happen if you ask someone?”

He doesn’t answer that, just looks back up at the ceiling, the set of his jaw hardening the sharp edges of his profile. 

“What if they don’t have to help?” he asks after a moment. 

“Of course they’d have to help,” Adam says. “That’s the point.”

“No, no, listen,” Shiro argues. “What if you can get someone to sign it _and_ sponsor me to stay?”

Silence, but the harsh lines of Adam’s face soften slightly. 

“I bet I could get Sam to do it, but I know you don’t really know him,” Shiro continues. “Forget about who you trust enough to talk to about it - who do you think trusts _you?”_

“What’s that got to do with it?” Adam asks, sitting up slightly to look at him. 

“Someone who trusts you won’t mind signing off without knowing more,” Shiro says, shrugging. “Hell, you’re a good student, probably _all_ your instructors would take your word for whatever you needed.”

Adam scoffs. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“How?” Shiro says, frowning. “Why _wouldn’t_ they trust you?”

“Because--” Adam begins, and breaks off, his eyes darting away. 

Shiro folds his arms. “Because _why?”_ he presses, but he thinks he already knows the answer, and the long silence that follows feels like an affirmation. He can’t even bring himself to feel satisfied that he’s probably right. 

“No one’s going to just take my word for anything without wanting to know more,” Adam says, finally, and drops back onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling again. 

If he ever meets either of Adam’s parents, Shiro decides, he’s going to make them wish he hadn’t. 

“Anyways,” Adam adds, after a moment, “it would need to be an instructor we both have, wouldn’t it? For your sponsorship idea to work?”

“Right,” Shiro agrees. “You haven’t had any classes with Commander Holt, so even if he’d probably do it, I get why you don’t want to ask him.” He frowns, running through the list of their classes in his head. “Iverson’s an asshole, Sablan’s probably even worse. Wait, do you have Dos Santos for tech-spec?”

Adam shakes his head. “Andrews. Who’s your comms instructor?”

“Montgomery,” Shiro says. “Yours?”

“I have her, too,” Adam says, and bites his lower lip, thinking. “She seems cool, I guess.”

Shiro grins. “Cool enough that you could ask her to sign your thing?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe.” With a sigh, he rolls over and grabs his tablet off the floor. “Oh, _shit--”_

“Fuck, what time is it?” Shiro says, immediately grabbing the edge of the desk to pull himself up. 

“Fifty-three,” Adam groans, stumbling to his feet and grabbing his boots. “She’s _definitely_ not gonna sign anything for me if I’m late to class, I’ll see you later--”

“Wait for me after class!” Shiro says as he heads for the door. “I’ll come meet you, we can talk to her--”

“Not _today,”_ Adam says, pushing him out into the hall. “Let me think about it first.”

“Okay, okay,” Shiro agrees. “Talk to you later.” With a wave, he takes off down the hallway at a run, hoping six minutes will be enough time to get to his theory lecture, and avoid getting one about his timeliness instead. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: description of a panic attack towards the end of the chapter

Adam could be a statue he’s standing so still, staring at the floor outside of Lauren Montgomery’s office, his feet together and his shoulders set. 

“Think you gotta put your chin up if you’re trying to stand at attention,” Shiro says lightly as he approaches. His head snaps up, his hand jerking as if to salute, and he lets a slow breath out through his teeth when their eyes meet. 

“Asshole,” he hisses. “Don’t scare me, I’m already on edge.” 

“Why?” Shiro asks, bemused. “Montgomery’s cool. She hardly yells or anything.” 

“I’m not scared of people yelling at me!” Adam snaps, adjusting his glasses. “Are you here to help me, or just make fun of me?” 

“Sorry,” Shiro says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to make fun. You ready?” 

Adam shrugs almost imperceptibly, his mouth twitching at the corner. “As much as I can be,” he says, and steps forward to knock on the door. 

“Just a minute,” Montgomery calls, and the door opens a moment later. “Hi, Weismann,” she says, smiling, and glances over at Shiro. “Shirogane. How can I help you boys?” 

“Um,” Adam says, quailing visibly. “I - I wanted to ask - if there’s, um - can I, we, can we come in?” 

“Of course,” she says, frowning slightly, and steps back from the door. “Have a seat, both of you, make yourselves comfortable.” 

Adam doesn’t look comfortable at all as he sits down at the edge of the chair, his spine rigid and his head down. Shiro takes the chair next to him and almost reaches to put a hand on his shoulder, but thinks better of it. 

“So, what did you need to ask me, Weismann?” she asks, surveying them both over the rims of her glasses. “I’m here to help.” 

“I was —“ Adam begins, and his voice breaks; he swallows hard and clears his throat. “I was hoping you would...do me a favor.” 

“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” she says cautiously, her frown deepening. “What is it?” 

_ Come on, _ Shiro thinks desperately, hoping that if he wills it hard enough Adam will remember that they went over this, he knows what to say already, he practiced for it all last night. 

Adam takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 

“I’m supposed to be having a procedure done this summer, but I wanted to stay on base for extended education,” he says, as if he’s reading it from a textbook. “The recovery is short, but intensive, so I’m required to have a temporary medical assistance form signed. Shirogane already volunteered and we submitted the form, but it was rejected because he doesn’t have summer residency yet, and I can’t wait for his petition to clear.” 

He swallows hard again and lifts his head to look up at her, his shoulders trembling slightly. 

“I was wondering if you would be able to co-sign,” he finishes. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but we can work out housing in the meantime so you won’t have to be involved at all, I just need a signature this week so I can schedule the operation.” 

Montgomery blinks at him and he quickly ducks his head again. 

“If that’s okay, ma’am,” he adds, very quietly. 

“I could do that,” she agrees, pushing her glasses up. “I know if you can’t get a procedure in over the summer, recovery might cut into your training next year, and I’d hate to see a young man as bright as you falling behind.” 

“Really?” Adam asks, looking up slowly. “You - you’ll really do it?” 

She nods. “I’ll see what I can do to help sort out your housing, too,” she says. “For that matter, I don’t live on base myself; if I apply for quarters this summer for the purpose of your medical assistance I’m happy to let you boys stay there.” 

“Oh,  _ nice,”  _ Shiro says, grinning. 

“You’ll still have to petition for summer residency so your keycard stays active, and commissary knows they have to feed you, Shirogane,” she says. “I’d do it today, if I were you, God only knows those papers take time to review.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees. 

“You have your form, Weismann?” she asks. 

Adam is still staring at her mutely, open-mouthed, but when he hears his name he seems to shake himself a little and nods. “Here,” he says, digging his tablet out of his bag, and pulls up the blank form again. 

“Excellent,” she says warmly, and takes the tablet to sign. Shiro finally reaches over to put his hand on Adam’s shoulder, beaming at him, and Adam manages a faint, shaky smile in return. Montgomery offers his tablet back to him, and he takes it. 

“Thank you, Commander,” he says, looking dazed. 

“Don’t do that,” Montgomery replies, giving him a stern look over her glasses. “If you have to be formal, Professor is just fine.” 

He nods, swallows hard as he signs his name under hers. “Yes, ma’am. I appreciate your help.” 

“Well, if you really want to thank me, take care of yourself so you’re in top form by the fall,” she says with a wry smile. “Is there anything else I can help you with right now? If not, I guess I’d better get in touch with residence management.” 

“No, ma’am, that’s all, thank you,” Adam says, getting to his feet, and salutes sharply before leaving her office, Shiro following on his heels. 

“I  _ told _ you we could figure something out,” he says as soon as the door closes, bouncing on his toes in his excitement. “We’re even gonna get to stay in officer’s quarters, how cool is  _ that?”  _

“I - I can't believe…” Adam says, and laughs breathlessly, passing a hand through his hair. “She actually agreed to that? She wanted to help?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Shiro says. “Plenty of people want to help if you just  _ ask _ them.” 

He laughs again, sounding a little hysterical. “Wow,” he manages. “This is actually happening.” 

“Yeah!” Shiro agrees. “I’m gonna go get the residency petition forms so I can—Adam?” 

His heart drops like a stone in still water as he sees Adam slump back against the wall and realizes how  _ pale _ he looks, his face still frozen in an awkward half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I - I -“ he stammers, and swallows, his shoulders drawing in. 

“Whoa, hey,” Shiro says, rushing to his side. “You need to sit down?” 

He nods, and from right next to him Shiro can hear his breath coming quick and uneven. 

“Okay, you’re okay,” Shiro says. “I’m gonna grab your arm, okay? You think you can make it to the back steps? It’s just around the corner from here, that way no one’s gonna bother us.” 

Adam nods again and lets him pull one arm around his shoulders, leaning against him slightly as he heads down the hall and ducks into the stairwell. He can feel how badly Adam is shaking, hear the hitch in his breath when he chokes back sobs, and his chest aches with sympathy. 

“Alright, here you go,” he says, sitting down carefully on the top stair and ducking out from under Adam’s arm. “Take a couple deep breaths for me, can you do that?” 

Adam shakes his head and wraps his arms around himself, pressing his face against his knees. “I - I’m sorry,” he manages, his voice a whimper. “I don’t know why - why I’m -“ 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Shiro tells him, careful to keep his tone calm and steady. “You don’t have to apologize, just try to breathe.” 

His breath catches and he sobs softly, curling up tighter. “Stupid,” he whispers, his voice muffled. “I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t -“ 

“It’s not stupid,” Shiro says. “What makes you think that?”

Adam shakes his head again, unable to answer. Shiro closes his eyes, focusing on his own breathing, and gradually Adam’s slows to match with his. 

“You okay now?” he asks after a few moments, glancing over at him. 

“Yeah,” Adam manages, sitting up, and takes off his glasses to rub his eyes with the back of one hand. “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, cut that out,” Shiro tells him. “Nothing you need to be sorry for.”

He laughs weakly, cleans the lenses of his glasses with the cuff of his jacket before putting them back on. “Pretty silly to have a panic attack after I already  _ know _ everything’s gonna be okay, though,” he says. 

Shiro shakes his head. “I mean, you were already kind of having a panic attack before we talked to her, right?” he points out. “Just because you pushed through it to get something done, doesn’t make it go  _ away.” _

Adam stares at him as if he’s speaking another language. 

“Anyways, um,” he says, fumbling for something else reassuring to say. “I think you handled it great. And it sounds like everything’s gonna work out okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, and finally starts to smile again. “I guess you’re right.” 

Shiro grins and pulls himself to his feet, offering Adam a hand to get up. “What do you think about getting some dinner?” he says. “I can start filling out my petition forms while we eat.” 

“Sounds great,” Adam says, and takes his outstretched hand. 

“How long do you think it’ll take for them to approve Montgomery’s signature on your thing?” Shiro asks. “Are they going to schedule you for surgery right away, you think?”

“God willing,” he says fervently, and laughs. “I kind of can’t believe it’s going to happen.” His hands flutter at his sides, frantically joyful, before he shoves them in his pockets. 

“It’s gonna be great,” Shiro says, beaming. His own hands move restlessly in front of his chest, but he doesn’t bother trying to still them. They’re done with classes for the day, and he doesn’t need to look professional now, so he doesn’t care if the whole world can see his excitement. 


	4. Chapter 4

The last two weeks of May feel like there are three days crammed into every one that actually passes, and it would be bad enough without also trying to  _ move.  _ For everyone else, the week following exams will be plenty of time to pack up their things and get them into storage if they’re not staying on base over the summer, but with Adam’s appointment set first thing in the morning the Monday after the term ends, he and Shiro both need to be settled into their summer quarters by the end of the weekend. 

“I don’t have time to pack everything  _ and _ study for exams,” Adam says despairingly as he collapses onto his bed. “I’m going to  _ fail.”  _

“You’re not going to fail,” Shiro says, trying not to laugh; he knows Adam is being serious, but the anguish in his tone borders on melodramatic. “We’re just gonna have to enlist some help.” 

“I don’t want anyone else messing with my stuff _ ,  _ though,” Adam says. “I hate people touching my things.” 

“What if I help?” Shiro says. “You trust me, right?” 

Adam frowns at him, folding his arms. “Not that much.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. 

“Not to let you pack for me,” Adam clarifies quickly. “Anyways, you don’t have time. I know you’re some kind of genius, or something, but you have to study, too.” 

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Whoever told you that was a damned liar. I just work hard at what I care about.” 

“That’s not true,” Adam says, laughing. “You’re good at everything.” 

“Maybe I care about everything,” he replies lightly. 

Adam shakes his head, still grinning. “Alright, if you say so,” he says. “But you also have all, like, three hundred pages of the Glenn-Mitchell Act memorized. Normal people don’t just do that for fun.” 

“I said I wasn’t a genius,” Shiro says, grinning back. “I never said I was  _ normal.”  _

* * *

In the end, they take turns spending their free time at each other’s quarters all week, alternately studying together and helping each other pack. “I think your roommate must be sick of me,” Adam comments on Thursday afternoon, sitting on the floor in Shiro’s room. “I’ve been here more than he has this week.” 

Shiro laughs at that, shaking his head. “Sick of what, getting scared half to death because he forgets you’re here until you talk? You’re so quiet sometimes you startle  _ me.”  _

“Sick of my chilly, standoffish attitude, probably,” Adam says dryly. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Shiro says. “Nobody thinks that about you. And if they do, well, fuck them, anyways, they’d know better if they took the time to  _ talk  _ to you.” 

Adam laughs quietly and shakes his head, and there’s a look on his face Shiro can’t read, a shine in his eyes and a softness to his smile that he’s not sure he’s ever seen before. 

* * *

On Sunday morning, the day before exams begin, Sam Holt arrives bright and early, accompanied by his wife and a gangly boy in glasses who must be their son. “Morning, Shiro,” he says cheerfully, giving him a crooked grin. “You’ve met my wife Colleen, of course, and this is my eldest boy, Matthew.” 

“Matt’s fine,” the boy says, offering his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Dad says you’re the best pilot he’s ever seen since he’s been with the Garrison.” 

“Now, son, there’s no need to put him on the spot,” Sam says, laughing, as Shiro feels his cheeks heat up. “First things first, Shiro, why don’t you show us what all needs moving?” 

He’s just finishing showing them everything he’s ready to take upstairs when there’s a knock on the door. “That’s probably Adam,” Shiro says, jumping up to answer. “Hey! Come on in, the Holts are here to help me move stuff, they said they’d help you too if you want--”

“Oh,” Adam says, looking startled, and stands up a little straighter. “Uh, hi, Commander.”

“Morning!” Sam says, waving. “You can call me Sam, we’re all off duty right now.”

The look on Adam’s face says that’s not likely to happen, and Shiro bites his tongue to keep from laughing. “You should show them what you need done with your stuff,” he says instead. “That way we have all day to study, since they offered to help bring things up to Montgomery’s quarters.”

“That’s really not…” Adam protests, looking back and forth between Shiro and the Holts gathered around his quarters. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Colleen says, smiling warmly. “It’s not any trouble for us to carry some boxes so you can focus on preparing for exams.”

“Come on, I already told them what to do with my stuff,” Shiro says. “Let’s go to your room so you can show them what’s up with yours.”

“I don’t--” Adam protests as Shiro pulls him into the hall. “That’s really nice of you guys, but you don’t have to…”

“No amount of kindness frees us from the obligation to do right by our neighbors,” Sam says, adjusting his glasses. 

Much to Shiro’s surprise, Adam relaxes slightly, his shoulders slumping. “Well,” he says with a sigh. “Okay, if it’s that important to you.”

“Hey,” Matt says, running ahead to catch up. “I’m Matt, Commander Holt’s my dad. Are you in the pilot track, too? I’m gonna be in communications when I start, like Dad is, but I bet being a pilot is super cool. Do you guys get to fly real aircraft yet?” 

“Um,” Adam says, looking to Shiro for help. 

“No, we can’t fly for real until third year,” Shiro says. “Unless we’re selected for special training, some people get to start early in their fourth term.” 

“Now, I wouldn’t know anything about what next spring’s flight specialist class might look like,” Sam says, tapping the side of his nose. “Officially speaking, even if a decision was made this early, I couldn’t tell you about it. But the names of a couple cadets here  _ might  _ be on the shortlist.” 

“Really?” Shiro asks, beaming. 

“Don’t act like  _ you’re _ surprised!” Adam says, wide-eyed. “Everyone knows you’re going to get in.” 

“Better keep up your marks on these exams, though,” Sam says lightly, and chuckles. “Even with those perfect simulator scores, you’ve got to keep up in your other classes.” 

“Yes, sir,” Shiro agrees, grinning, as they stop outside of Adam’s room. “We’ll get straight to work as soon as you know what to help with.” 

The room is even more spare than usual, the books all pulled off the bookshelves and everything cleared off his desk except a stack of notebooks and a single pen. His duffel is open at the foot of his bed, half packed with clothes as if for a trip.

“Um, you can start with these,” Adam says, gesturing to a stack of boxes on the floor. “Careful, though, they’re heavy. And this is just clothes, that can go next… if that’s okay, sir.”

“Whatever makes your life easiest, son,” Sam says, laughing. 

“Just leave this one for last,” Adam adds, tapping the box that’s on his desk chair as he grabs his notebooks. “I need to be able to get things out of it, so make sure it’s easy to access. And it’s  _ fragile,  _ be careful, I don’t want anything to break.”

“Whatcha got in there?” Matt asks, leaning against the desk. “Models or something?”

“Matthew!” Colleen says. “That’s  _ rude.”  _

“It’s fine,” Adam says, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. “It’s just ceremonial things. Candlesticks and stuff. A bunch of it’s my mom’s.” 

“Oh,” Matt says. “That’s cool, too.” 

“I’ll treat it like it was my own,” Sam promises. “What do you say, Coll? Matty? Ready to get to work?” 

Colleen nods, already rolling up her sleeves. “Lauren emailed me the room designation this morning,” she says. “She should already be waiting for us upstairs.” 

“Come on,” Shiro says, heading for the door. “We’ve got work to do, too.” 

Adam hangs back, hovering in the doorway to look at the Holts. “Thanks again, Commander,” he says quietly. “Well, all of you. It means a lot.” 

“Well, a friend of Shiro’s is a friend of mine,” Sam says with a wave. “And I never refuse to lend a hand when a friend’s in need.” 

“You boys are plenty busy already,” Colleen adds. “Go study! We’ll get everything taken care of.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With much thanks to the friend who gladly gave her name to the Glenn-Mitchell act, which she inspired by pointing out that there must be big changes to accommodate for disability in the Garrison's space program.


	5. Chapter 5

They spend all day in the library, only taking a break for lunch before going back to work. By the time they’re done for the day, they’re both exhausted, but Shiro is  _ pretty _ sure he’s ready for at least his first exams tomorrow.

“Man, I’m starving,” he complains as they head towards the officers’ quarters. “Sam said he’d get us food, I hope it’s here already.” 

“I think it’s this one,” Adam says, stopping outside a room with no name plaque outside the door. He hesitates for a moment before knocking tentatively. 

“Just one minute!” calls Sam’s voice from inside. Adam frowns, glancing over at Shiro, who shrugs. 

A few seconds pass before the door slides open, and Sam appears in the doorway, beaming at them, with a marker in one hand and a tape measure in the other. 

“Evening, boys!” he says cheerfully. “Welcome home!” 

“Hey, you two,” says Montgomery, waving from the kitchenette, where she’s helping Colleen set out food for dinner. “Study hard today?” 

“You bet,” Shiro says, grinning. “What are you measuring, Sam?” 

“I saw you had a mezuzah in your old room, Weismann,” Sam replies. “I didn’t want to take it down for you, of course, when you’ve still got things there, but figured I’d measure out where to put it here, make it a proper housewarming celebration for you.” 

“Oh,” Adam says faintly, and looks over at Montgomery, fidgeting anxiously with his sleeves. “Is - is that okay? I mean, these are really your quarters, I don’t want—“ 

She adjusts her glasses with a wry smile. “Maybe on paper, but I’m not the one  _ living _ in them,” she says. “As long as you don’t damage any Garrison property, I don’t mind, and somehow I don’t think you’re the type to cause aimless destruction.” 

“You never know,” Colleen says, leaning against the counter as she smiles at them. “I hear Shirogane can be a troublemaker.” 

“Only when Sam encourages it,” Shiro replies, grinning back. 

“Nonsense!” Sam says. “I make it my goal to only bring out the best in all our fine cadets.” He turns to Adam and puts a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. “Now, what do you say we have our dedication before dinner?” 

“Oh,” Adam says again, still looking startled, but he slowly smiles back, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. His hands hover uncertainly near his chest for a moment before he shoves them in his pockets. “I - yeah, that’s - that sounds good. I’ll go check my room and get it.”

“Hurry back,” Matt says from where he’s leaning against the counter in the small kitchenette. “I’m starving.” 

Adam nods with a crooked grin, turns, and leaves the room at a run, the door hissing shut behind him. 

While he’s gone, Shiro takes the opportunity to get his first real look around their summer quarters. The back half of the room is partitioned off to separate their bunks from the main living area, leaving a sizeable open space as the living room, with sleek modern furniture and large windows looking out over the desert. The kitchenette in the corner is bigger than he’d expected, with an actual stove and dishwasher built into one wall, and a glance into the bathroom reveals not only a shower, but an actual bath as well. 

“This place is awesome,” he tells Montgomery, grinning. “ _ So _ much cooler than the quarters we get.” 

“Try not to brag about it too much,” she advises him, looking sternly over her glasses, though a slight smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t want to hear you’re going around making the other cadets jealous.” 

“I’m sure he does that well enough on his own!” Sam says, laughing. “Not that you mean to, son, I know you aren’t trying to stir anyone up.” 

Shiro frowns at them both. “I mean, if anyone asks, I’ll just tell them the truth,” he says. “It’s not for fun, we’re here because Adam’s getting a procedure done and needs somewhere to recover.” He can’t help smiling again as he adds, “They don’t need to know whether we  _ are  _ having fun, right?” 

“Sounds like you’ve learned a thing or two from Sam,” Colleen says lightly. “Matty, leave that alone, we’ll eat in a  _ minute—“ _

“Aw, Mom,” Matt says, making a face. “Come on! You really have to embarrass me in front of the best pilot in the Garrison?” 

“That’s what moms do best,” she tells him as Shiro laughs, a little embarrassed himself. He’s saved the trouble of having to respond to Matt’s flattery when the door opens and Adam stumbles in, out of breath but grinning, his duffel thrown over his shoulder and the thin metal case from inside his door clutched in one hand. 

“Sorry,” he manages, panting. “I had to - get out my knife to - take it down.” 

“No need to apologize,” Sam says, beaming. “You need a hand putting it back up?” 

“No, I just, uh—“ Adam says, still breathing hard. “Need one of those - I have them somewhere, with my school stuff, hold on -“ 

He throws his bag down on the couch and runs over to the boxes stacked against the wall, shifting two of them off to the side to reach the one he needs. After a moment of searching, he finds a pack of mounting strips and pulls one out, fumbling to pull off the plastic wrapping with one hand. 

As he goes to stick it to the doorframe he hesitates, glancing over at Shiro. “You… don’t mind, right?” he asks. “I mean, it’s your room too, so…” 

“Of course I don’t,” Shiro says, blinking. “You’re, uh - supposed to put it up in your home, right? Even if it’s only for a couple months, this is gonna be home for you.” 

“Okay,” Adam says, his smile returning, and turns back to the doorway to put up the tape and affix the scroll case to it, singing a quiet blessing as he does. “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, kidishanu b’mitzvotav, vetzivanu lik’boa mezuzah.” 

“Amen,” the Holts all join in from the kitchen, and Adam grins, his cheeks flushing slightly as he tugs at the pendant he usually keeps tucked under his shirt. 

“Can we eat now?” Matt asks after a few seconds. “I’m starving.” 

“Me too,” Shiro admits. “What is all this anyways? It smells great.” 

“Only, like, the best roast beef and vegetables you’ll ever  _ have _ ,” Matt says. “Oh, and bread, and stuff, too. Mom’s a great cook.” 

“Why don’t you let these cadets take theirs first, kiddo,” Sam tells him as he reaches for a plate. “It’s their housewarming.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not gonna let  _ me _ eat til we say hamotzi,” Matt says, frowning. 

“Which is why Shiro should get his food first,” Colleen says. 

“I don’t really mind,” he says, laughing. “I’ll wait to eat until you guys do, you can go ahead and grab some, Matt.” 

It takes a few minutes to sort through the chaos of six people trying to get food in a two-person kitchen, but they all manage to grab a plate and disperse to the living room to sit around the low coffee table with plastic forks and knives, while Sam pours juice into plastic cups for everyone and Colleen breaks off pieces of braided bread with salt for each of them. 

“Dad, come  _ on,”  _ Matt groans, leaning against the couch, and Sam laughs as he comes out with the last two cups, setting them down on the table. Despite his protests, though, Matt says the blessings with him as he sits down. 

“Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, shehecheyanu, vekimanu, vehigi’anu lizman hazeh,” Adam murmurs after the others have gone quiet, still toying with the chain of his necklace. 

“L’chayim!” Sam says, raising his cup. “Let’s eat.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple minor warnings for this chapter: some brief medical discussion and (external) description of anxiety/sensory overload.

Everyone else must be just as hungry as Matt, because there’s a solid five minutes where they’re all too busy eating to speak. Shiro finally puts down his fork long enough to say, “This is  _ really _ good, thanks for making it.” 

“Yeah, thanks a ton, Mrs Holt,” Adam agrees. “You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.” 

“It’s not  _ trouble _ to celebrate moving with the two of you,” Colleen says, laughing. “That’s what community is for.” She takes a sip of her juice and then adds, as an afterthought, “Speaking of which, if you’re still looking for a congregation here, you should attend service at ours sometime and see if you like it.” 

“Oh,” Adam says, ducking his head. “Thanks. I already go to Bet Shalom Yisrael, though.”

Colleen frowns slightly, but all she says is, “Oh, I see.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve found a place you’re happy,” Sam says cheerfully. “But Etz Chayim always welcomes visitors, if you ever want to stop by!” 

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Adam says, with a faint smile. 

“So, Shiro, what classes are you taking this summer?” Sam asks, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I saw you’re on the roster for my tech development class.”

“I’m also doing applied aviation physics in the afternoons,” Shiro says, grinning. 

“Oh, I’m taking that, too,” Adam says, lighting up. “Awesome.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were taking classes,” Sam says, surprised. “Thought you were having a procedure done?”

Adam shrugs. “I’m exempted from training and drills,” he says, “but I don’t want to waste the whole summer when I should be cleared to take classes once they start.”

“What are you getting done, anyways?” Matt asks with his mouth full. 

Next to him Shiro feels Adam go tense. 

“Is it your eyes?” Matt continues, oblivious, and points to his own wire-rimmed glasses. “That’s the first thing I’m gonna do when I join the Garrison! I won’t ever have to wear these  _ again.”  _

Shiro laughs at that, and across the table Colleen puts a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Sounds like you’re both going to be busy,” she says. “But those should be interesting classes, right?”

Adam relaxes a little, laughing shakily. “I hope so,” he says. Under the table Shiro can see his hand pressed into his leg, fingers restlessly curling and uncurling. His throat feels tight. 

Matt must have already forgotten his original question, though, because the next thing he says when he stops eating to talk is, “You guys must be, like,  _ really _ good at math and stuff to learn all that! You’ve gotta take a bunch of tests to get into the Garrison, right? Were they super hard?”

“They’re pretty intense,” Shiro agrees. “You’re gonna have to study  _ way _ more than we are right now to pass them.”

Matt’s eyes go wide behind his glasses. “For  _ real?” _ he asks. 

The hint of a smile creeps onto Adam’s face again as he leans forward. “They’re the hardest exams you’ll ever have to take in your  _ life, _ ” he says seriously. “I hope your dad helps you more than  _ my _ parents did; you can’t just fall back on family legacy.” 

“Don’t terrorize the poor boy!” Montgomery says, shaking her head. “The entrance exams are tough, but nothing a dedicated student can’t handle. If you’ve got your dad’s smarts, you’ll be fine, kiddo.”

“He’s got better than that,” Sam says, chuckling. “He’s got his mother’s.”

“Maybe so,” Colleen says with a wry smile, “but he’s got  _ your _ curiosity.” 

“Guuuuuyyyyyys,” Matt whines, pouting. “You’re so  _ embarrassing.”  _ He turns to Sam and adds, wide-eyed, “You’re gonna help me study, right? So I can get in?”

“Only if you keep your grades up in school,” Sam says, ruffling his hair. “Don’t worry, though, you’ve got another three years before you need to worry about that.”

“Yeah,” Matt says, “but I gotta start thinking about it now so I’m ready!”

Shiro laughs, but Adam is quiet, his smile forced and his dark eyes darting from one person to another. From a foot away Shiro can feel the tension in his shoulders, humming like a live wire. He wants to help comfort him, somehow, but can’t think of how, at least not without drawing more attention onto him, and from the way Adam’s drawn his shoulders in on himself he thinks more attention is the last thing he needs.

As everyone is finishing the last of their food, Colleen takes advantage of the quiet to say, “You boys must be getting tired. You did a lot of work today, too, and you’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

“Great point, sweetheart,” Sam says, getting up from the floor. “We’ll help you clean up before we go, no need for you to get up.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Shiro says with a rueful grin, as how exhausted he is suddenly seems to sink in. 

“I really appreciate all the help,” Adam says, managing a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t think we could’ve done all this without you, sir.” 

“No need to be so formal, son,” Sam says, laughing. “You can feel free to let me know if there’s anything else we can help with.”

“And do the same for me,” Montgomery adds as she climbs to her feet. “I’m here to help support you both if there’s anything you need.”

She and the Holts move over to the kitchen to tidy up, and Shiro leans back against the couch, stretching his legs out under the table. “You okay?” he asks Adam under his breath. 

Adam nods, trying his best to smile again. “Just tired,” he whispers back. 

“Kind of a lot of people, huh,” Shiro says sympathetically. 

He hunches his shoulders, looking away, and doesn’t reply. 

“Best of luck on your exams tomorrow, kids,” Sam says, beaming at them, as he heads towards the door. “You’re both gonna do great.” 

“Thanks, Sam,” Shiro says, waving. “See you later.” 

“Bye!” Matt calls over his shoulder as Colleen ushers him into the hall. Montgomery flashes them both a smile and waves with one hand before disappearing into the hall, and the door slides closed behind her, leaving the apartment in silence. 

“Sorry,” Adam mumbles after a moment, drawing his legs up to his chest to lean his head against his knees.

“What?” Shiro asks, frowning. “No, why would you be—? I get it, seriously.” 

Adam glances up at him, biting his lower lip. “You  _ like _ people, though.” 

“I already know the Holts,” he replies. “It’s different with strangers.” More quietly, he adds, “And to be honest, I’m a little overwhelmed, too.” 

That gets Adam to laugh a little, and he takes off his glasses to scrub at his eyes with the heel of one hand. “You handle it better,” he says. 

Shiro shrugs. “I dunno about that. I think you’re probably just more tired than I am.” 

“I guess,” Adam says, and swallows hard. 

“We should probably both get to bed, anyways,” Shiro points out with a wry smile. “Colleen’s right, we need the rest for tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, and gets to his feet, grabbing his duffel off the couch as he heads towards his side of the room. Shiro follows, slinging his own bag over his shoulder, but as he reaches the edge of the partition, he stops as Adam says, suddenly, quietly, “Hey, Shiro?” 

“Yeah?” he asks, turning to look at him. He’s staring at the floor, hands clasped together in front of him and twisting around each other anxiously, and it’s a second before he speaks.

“Thanks,” he says finally. “For understanding.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Shiro says. When Adam still doesn’t move, he takes a couple steps closer, reaching for his shoulder without touching him, waiting for him to respond. 

Adam looks up, giving him a crooked smile, before he steps forward to hug him, and Shiro finds himself grinning as he hugs back. 


	7. Chapter 7

It’s always weird waking up somewhere new, and it takes a few seconds of fumbling around in the dark trying to figure out where the alarm clock is for Shiro to remember he’s not in his old dorm room anymore; he’s actually moved into the quarters he’s sharing with Adam this summer, and the small space that serves as his bedroom is laid out completely differently. He clambers to his feet and crosses the room to turn off the alarm on top of the dresser, hoping the partition is solid enough that Adam won’t be woken by his clumsy stumbling across the room.

He throws his duffel on the bed and pulls it open to dig around for his running clothes, finding them by feel and getting dressed without turning the lights on. Grabbing his shoes in one hand, he creeps out to the kitchen to get a protein bar from the cupboard, and eats it sitting on the floor while he runs through range of motion to warm up. When he’s finished stretching, he laces up his shoes and pushes himself to his feet, slipping quietly into the hall. 

Even in summer, the desert is cold before the sun comes up, and he shivers a little as he steps outside, wrapping his arms around himself. Even with the chill, he can’t help grinning as he looks out over the flat, open desert, light just starting to creep over the horizon, and takes off running along the dirt track that circles the Garrison base. 

Adam is awake by the time he gets back, standing in the kitchen eating leftovers from dinner, and he looks up startled when the door opens, only to relax when he sees Shiro come in, his shoulders slumping as he sighs. 

“I didn’t think you were up,” he says. “Where  _ were _ you this early?” 

“Running,” Shiro says, leaning against the wall to unlace his shoes. “I try to do it before it gets too hot.”

“Oh,” Adam says, blinking sleepily. “Right.” 

“Is it cool with you if I shower quick?” he asks, pushing his sweat-slick hair back from his forehead. His heart is still pounding against the inside of his ribs, and he takes a couple deep breaths to steady it. Adam nods, still looking slightly bewildered, and he crosses the room to duck into the bathroom and turn on the water, stretching to cool down as he waits for it to get hot. 

* * *

Adam is waiting for him when he gets out of his afternoon exam, leaning against the wall with his arms folded behind his back and staring at the floor. “Hey,” Shiro says, surprised. “What’s up?” 

“Come help me get groceries,” Adam says. “I want to be able to make real food.” 

“What, you don’t like the stuff Colleen made for dinner last night?” Shiro asks, incredulous. 

“Of course I did,” Adam says, raising an eyebrow. “But we can’t live all summer off of the leftovers from Mrs Holt’s cooking.”

“Bet we could if we tried,” Shiro says, grinning. “I’m pretty sure she’d feed just about anyone she thinks looks a little too skinny, and you’d  _ definitely  _ qualify.” 

“Thanks,” Adam says, making a face that scrunches up his nose. “Even so, I’m not going to let someone else feed me when I can cook for myself. And leftovers aren’t breakfast.” 

“Sure they are,” Shiro says, shrugging, and heads down the hall with him to the commissary store. “If you want to cook, though, I’m not gonna say no. Just as long as you don’t ask me for help.” 

“Who said I’m cooking for you?” Adam asks, elbowing him in the side. “You only have to help if you want to eat it.” 

“Well, I have a bad habit of ruining anything I touch in the kitchen,” Shiro says with a rueful laugh. “So I guess I’ll have to eat in the caf, instead.” 

“Oh, don’t say that,” Adam says, grinning as he shakes his head. “You can cut vegetables, or do the dishes. Or both. You’ll have to learn how to do  _ some _ things while I still have restrictions from surgery, you know.”

* * *

They spend most of their free time that week studying for the next day’s exams, and when they’re not studying, they’re working on unpacking. 

For as little as Shiro brought with him to school, it sure feels like there’s a lot to sort through and put away, and he’s tremendously grateful that at least for  _ his  _ part, he has another few weeks to get settled in before summer courses start. Adam isn’t so lucky, with his surgery on Monday morning, and whenever they take a break from studying he returns to his room to work on reorganizing his things. 

“You know you can put stuff on the shelves in the living room, right?” Shiro tells him, when he peeks into his side of the room to see him glowering at his bookshelves, a box half-full of textbooks and schoolwork sitting open at his feet. 

Adam turns to stare at him as if this suggestion is completely insane. “I want to keep the living room clean,” he says flatly. 

Shiro looks around at his meticulously organized shelves and tidy desk, his bed perfectly made with hotel corners and nothing on top of the dresser but his alarm clock, and wonders what standards of  _ clean _ Adam isn’t meeting already, because their definitions definitely don’t match. “Uh, okay,” he agrees. “Well, you’re welcome to, if you change your mind.” 

“Thanks, I guess,” Adam says, blinking at him in confusion, and Shiro shakes his head, bewildered, as he ducks out of the room. 

* * *

“Do you do this  _ every  _ morning?” Adam asks, staring at Shiro as he comes in from his run. He’s standing in the kitchen with a plate of toast and cut fruit, still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly askew on his face.

“Uh, yeah?” Shiro says, shrugging. 

Adam frowns, the toast he’s eating apparently forgotten in his hand. “I’m not an expert,” he says slowly, “but I’m  _ pretty _ sure you’re supposed to take days off from working out.”

“It’s not really a workout,” Shiro says, crossing to the kitchen to grab a banana from the counter. “Back when I did cross-country I ran  _ twice _ as far as I do most mornings.” He probably still could, but pushing himself farther than he needs to is a stupid risk to take when he knows he might not bounce back from a real injury.

“Don’t you only build muscle when you’re resting?” Adam says, still frowning. 

“I’m not  _ trying _ to build muscle,” Shiro replies, ducking around Adam to grab the peanut butter from the cabinet. “Even if I wanted to, the cost’s too high, this is just upkeep.” 

“What are you  _ talking  _ about?” Adam asks, still staring at him, and Shiro freezes, his mouth going dry as realization hits him like a punch to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. 

Somehow, in the year they’ve known each other, he’s never told Adam he’s sick. 

“I’m already in good shape,” he says, shrugging again, and tries to laugh. “I’m not gonna push myself harder than I need to and risk getting hurt, you know?” It’s the truth, mostly, and he’s not going to go into the rest when they’ve got exams starting in a couple hours. 

Adam angles his head to the side, considering this with a frown. “Feel like taking a day off would still be healthier,” he says. 

“Hate to break a good habit,” Shiro replies with a strained grin, setting his food down on the counter again. He’s suddenly not all that hungry. “Anyways, I’m gonna go shower, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Hopefully, by then, Adam will have stopped worrying about it and they can talk about this another time.


	8. Chapter 8

Shiro can tell Adam’s worried; all afternoon on Saturday he can barely sit still, nervous energy threaded through him like a live wire. Even while he’s laying on the couch reading, he keeps fidgeting and biting at his nails, his brow furrowed in a frown as his eyes skim the pages of his book. 

“You okay?” Shiro asks him, when he sighs and sets down his book for the third time in two hours, climbing to his feet. 

“Fine,” he says, but he’s wringing his hands together as he crosses the room to look out the windows at the desert. 

“You’re on edge,” Shiro points out, leaning against the counter. “Do you want to _do_ something so you’re not just sitting around?” 

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “Like what?” 

Shiro shrugs. “I don’t know - play a video game? Go for a run? Finish unpacking your stuff?”

“I’m not much of a runner,” Adam says, shaking his head. “And the other stuff is melacha.” Shiro’s lack of comprehension must show on his face, because Adam glances over at him and laughs shakily. “Um - work, sort of. Things you don’t - Jews don’t do on Shabbat, we’re supposed to relax.” 

“Yeah, you don’t seem like you’re relaxing,” Shiro points out. “And I think if you chew your nails down any farther you’re gonna start bleeding.” 

Adam’s eyes go wide and he looks down at his hands, grimacing as he examines his fingers. “Oh,” he replies faintly. 

“So if you can’t play video games or unpack, what _can_ you do?” Shiro prompts him. “There’s gotta be something that’ll keep your mind busy so you’re not stressing out so much.” 

Adam shrugs. “Read, or spend time with family, or friends. Study, or pray, or sing. Playing games is okay, I guess, if they’re not on the computer, or gambling games.” 

“Hm,” he muses, considering this. “Like strategy games? I think Sam’s got a chess set in his office. I’m not very good, though, so you’ll probably beat me pretty easy.” 

For the first time all day, a genuine smile crosses Adam’s face. “Is he here today?” he asks. “I wouldn’t mind playing a game or two if you can borrow it. Maybe I’ll give you some tips.” 

* * *

Shiro retrieves the chess set from Sam’s office, leaving a note on the desk to say that he’s borrowed it for the weekend, and they sit on the floor and play chess for the rest of the afternoon, talking aimlessly between moves, until the sky outside the windows is melting from blue into pale violet and a few stars begin to twinkle into view above the horizon. 

“I think that’s a checkmate,” Adam says as he carefully sets down his remaining tower. 

Shiro laughs, leaning in to knock over his king for the third time. “I told you I’m no good,” he says, grinning. 

“I think you did better that time,” Adam says as he gets to his feet, laughing a little himself. “Thanks for that, I haven’t had anyone to play with since I got here.” He crosses to the kitchen to grab a bottle of juice before heading back towards the divided bedroom. 

“Maybe by the end of the summer I’ll be able to beat you,” Shiro jokes, and stretches, pushing himself up off the floor and trying to ignore the stiff protest in his legs. “I’m gonna get some fresh air before bed, I think.” 

“Hey, wait a sec,” Adam says, pausing at the edge of the partition separating their rooms. Shiro looks over at him and sees him shift uncertainly, his shoulders hunched. “Um - I know I said I don’t really like running, but…” 

“Yeah?” Shiro prompts him when he doesn’t continue. 

“If you’d be willing to wait a few minutes so I can do havdalah, it might be nice to go out on a walk, for a little bit?” Adam says, looking down at the ground. “Just around the edges of base, maybe, if you’d wanna come with me.”

Shiro beams at him, bouncing eagerly on his toes. “I’d love to, yeah,” he agrees. “Take your time, I’ll wait for you.” 

Adam smiles back and ducks around the corner to his half of the room, and Shiro can hear him singing softly to himself on the other side of the partition. He stretches while he waits, listening to the indistinct murmur of Adam’s voice as he warms up the muscles in his legs. There’s a good chance he’s going to regret going out on a walk when he’s already been running today, but as long as he’s careful he thinks he can manage the trip around the base, and the fatigue will be a problem he can worry about tomorrow. He takes Sundays off, anyways. 

A few minutes later, Adam emerges in shorts and a t-shirt, a half-zipped hoodie thrown overtop to keep warm in the evening chill. “Ready?” Shiro asks, grinning, as he goes to pull on his running shoes. 

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, nodding. “Let’s go.” 

* * *

They end up taking one of the trails just outside of base, the dirt track taking them out into the open desert and up along the rocky ridge half a mile east, the red stone painted blue and purple in the fading dusk light. 

“Can we stop for a minute?” Adam asks as they reach the top of the rise; he’s panting a little, clearly out of breath from the climb. 

“Sure,” Shiro says, shrugging. “I’m following you, man. You okay?” 

He nods, sitting down on the edge of a rocky outcropping. “Just need to catch my breath.” 

Shiro drops down next to him, stretching his legs out across the path and wrapping his arms around himself, the cool air making him shiver now that they’ve stopped moving. “How are you feeling?” he asks after a long moment of silence. 

Adam sighs, leaning back on his hands to look up at the sky. “In general, or about Monday?” he asks with a shaky laugh. 

“I mean, both, I guess,” Shiro says. “I know you’re worried, but it’s gotta be exciting, too, right?” 

“Well, yeah,” Adam says, and gives him a wry smile. “Maybe once I’m better I’ll start playing sports again. Stuff for fun, I mean, not just training.” 

“Maybe you’ll come running with me once in a while,” Shiro teases. “You know, give me some motivation.” 

“And get up at four in the morning?” Adam says, laughing. “Keep _dreaming,_ Shirogane.” 

* * *

“I’m going to do something _stupid,”_ he says Sunday morning, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll say some moronic thing and make a fool of myself and--”

“To _who?”_ Shiro asks, bewildered. “Most of the cadets have already _left,_ and we’re not even living in cadet’s quarters for the summer _anyways._ Who’s going to hear you say something stupid?”

“ _You_ are!” Adam says, looking up again in despair. 

Shiro shakes his head slowly, frowning. “What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you?” he asks. 

“No - well - I don’t know,” Adam stammers, and sighs, slumping back against the couch. “No, you wouldn’t do that. But I don’t - like that I might say things I won’t even _remember.”_

“You want me to record it?” Shiro offers. 

Adam’s mouth twists up as he looks away. “That’s stupid,” he mumbles, his shoulders hunching. 

“Okay,” Shiro says, shrugging. “Sorry, I just thought maybe it’d help to be able to see.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Adam asks, quietly, “You wouldn’t show anyone, right?” 

“No!” Shiro says, gaping at him in dismay. “Of course I - why the _hell_ would I do that?” 

“I… guess you wouldn’t,” Adam says, fidgeting with his glasses. “I just want to be sure.” 

“I can send it to you and delete it right away,” Shiro assures him. “After that you can do whatever you want with it.” 

“Hm,” Adam muses, biting his lip as he considers this. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.” He hesitates, glances over at Shiro with a frown. “You’d really do that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Shiro says. “I wouldn’t offer otherwise.” 

“Okay,” Adam says, and sighs. “If you really don’t mind.” 

* * *

It rains most of the afternoon, but by evening the sky clears, and Shiro can see the sun sinking towards the desert from the open windows of their quarters as he heats up water for tea in the kitchen.

“Is that all you’re gonna eat?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as Adam spreads jam on a slice of toast. “You know you can’t eat anything past eight, right?” 

Adam shrugs, leaning against the counter and looking out the window as he nibbles at his toast. “Not really hungry,” he mumbles. “I’ll be okay.” 

Shiro frowns, looking over the stiffness of his shoulders, the way his fingers curl and uncurl around the hem of his t-shirt, the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unable to stand still. “If you’re sure,” he says slowly. “Hey, you wanna go up to the roof and see the sunset?” 

“What,” Adam says dryly, “you don’t want to run out into the middle of the desert today?” 

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and Shiro laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t want you to wear yourself out before your surgery,” he says lightly as he grabs his thermos from the cabinet. He’s been resting all day, but he’s still not sure he’s up for a run after overdoing it yesterday, and he wants to be in top form tomorrow for anything Adam needs. 

“I don't think we're really allowed up there," Adam adds, putting his plate in the sink. "Aren't we going to get in trouble?"

"Nah, I go up there all the time," Shiro says. "Anyways, no one really checks until curfew, and that's not for an hour still."

Adam considers this, frowning, and sighs. "I guess I'll come up with you if you're going," he agrees.

“Great,” Shiro says cheerfully. “Hey, hand me your thermos, it’ll be nicer with something warm to drink.”

He drops two teabags in each of their thermoses and fills them up with water while Adam pulls his shoes on, and they leave the quarters together, heading up to the roof to watch the sun sink into the desert.

* * *

Shiro is up before dawn to go running like usual, but he ends up thinking better of it today, knowing Adam’s going to need him ready to provide support. Instead he watches out the windows as the sky grows lighter, and is delighted to see splashes of color strewn across the rocky landscape past the outer wall, where the lean, tough plant life has suddenly burst into bloom after the rain. 

“Morning,” Adam says as he emerges from his side of the room, his hair still tousled from sleep and his glasses set crookedly on his nose. 

“You’re up early,” Shiro says, surprised. “Your procedure’s not for another two hours, is it?”

Adam shakes his head, hunching his shoulders. “Can’t get back to sleep,” he says quietly. “At this point I might as well stay up.” 

“Well, on the bright side, you’ll probably sleep plenty from the anaesthesia,” Shiro points out with a wry smile

Adam doesn’t laugh, his shoulders still drawn in tightly, and Shiro’s smile drops from his face. 

“Hey,” he says softly, crossing the room to put a hand on Adam’s shoulder, and realizes he’s shaking. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“I know that,” he mutters, looking away. “It’s not like it’s a high risk procedure, or anything, I know I’m just being _stupid—“_

“Whoa, hold on, I didn’t say that,” Shiro protests. “I don’t think that, it’s okay that you’re still nervous. I mean, this is kind of a big deal!” 

“But I,” Adam protests, and breaks off, his hands curled into fists in front of him, his teeth worrying at his lower lip as he looks around the room at anything but Shiro.

“It’s okay,” Shiro repeats, squeezing his shoulder firmly. “I know you’re worried. Just try and breathe, alright?” 

He shuts his eyes and focuses on his own breathing, listening as Adam’s slows to match. When he opens his eyes again, Adam is looking up at him, and manages a slight smile when Shiro meets his gaze. 

“There you go,” Shiro says, smiling back. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, and laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks.”

* * *

Half an hour before Adam’s appointment, they leave their quarters and walk down to medical together for him to check in. He’s fidgety and restless, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie to keep them still, except when he reaches up to needlessly adjust his glasses again. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Shiro reminds him when he hesitates outside the waiting room door, and reaches to put a hand on his shoulder.

Adam tenses briefly at the touch, then sighs and relaxes slightly, closing his eyes as he swallows hard. “Yeah,” he agrees, and nods, managing a faint smile. “Thanks.” 

“Checking in for a procedure?” asks the receptionist as they enter. 

“Weismann,” Adam mumbles without looking at her. “E-I-S, not I-S-E.” 

“Got it,” she says, tapping at her keyboard. “Any relation to—?” 

“Probably,” Adam sighs before she can finish her question. Shiro raises an eyebrow. 

“Eight a.m. with Dr Jordan?” the receptionist asks. “Lauren - oh, wait - Commander Montgomery as your contact?”

“Does she let senior staff call her that?” Shiro asks, amused. “She hates when students call her Commander.” The receptionist blinks at him, puzzled, but Adam laughs, ducking his head farther to hide his grin. Shiro beams. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Adam confirms. 

“You’re checked in,” the receptionist tells him. “Dr Jordan just got in, he should be with you shortly. Go ahead and have a seat.”

Adam nods and crosses the room to sit down, Shiro trailing after him. “Thanks,” Adam mutters as Shiro takes the seat next to him. “I think she was gonna ask more about my parents if you didn’t jump in.” 

“No problem,” Shiro whispers back, and drapes his arm over the back of the chair, not quite touching him. “That sounds like the last thing you need right now.” 

Adam smiles wryly and leans back in his seat, resting against Shiro's arm. His hands curl and uncurl in his lap, restless, and he tugs absently at the hem of his sweatshirt as he looks around the room. When the door opens he sits up quickly, needlessly straightening his glasses as he looks over towards the doctor approaching.

"Cadet Weismann, right?" the man says, offering a hand. "I'm Dr Jordan, it's nice to meet you."

"Yes, sir," Adam says, and swallows hard as he gets to his feet. "It's a pleasure."

"Come on back," Dr Jordan says, gesturing to the door, and Adam glances back at Shiro, biting his lip.

"Good luck with your procedure," Shiro tells him, standing to clap him on the shoulder and flash him a smile. "Text me when you're out, okay?"

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling back shakily. "I'll see you in a few hours."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings in this chapter for (medical) drugs, brief emeto warn towards the end.

Shiro frowns and checks his phone again, kicking his foot anxiously against the edge of his chair, and sighs when he sees no new messages. He’d expected a text sooner than this, but he’s determined not to worry too much until it’s been at least an hour. Probably nothing’s actually wrong, just a minor delay. 

As he goes to put his phone away, the intercom clicks on, and a woman’s voice on the speaker says politely, “Commander Montgomery to infirmary, please, Commander Montgomery please report to the infirmary.” 

His heart jumps into his throat, and in a second he’s on his feet, running down the hall towards the medical wing. Since Montgomery’s name is on Adam’s medical assistance form, technically she’s the one responsible for him right now, and that means the call is probably about him. He knows he’s not going to be allowed to see Adam if something’s actually wrong, but he wants to be there to find out what’s going on as soon as Montgomery knows. 

“What’s going on?” he asks as soon as he gets to the waiting room and sees Montgomery standing by the counter. “Is he okay?” 

To his relief, she laughs, and gestures with her head to the back row of seats. “See for yourself,” she says. 

He looks over and sees, on second glance, that Adam is there already, sprawled awkwardly on his back across three seats and apparently asleep. Shiro bites his tongue to keep from laughing too. “What, they give him too much anaesthetic?” he asks. 

“Apparently he got fighty when he woke up,” she says. “They had to give him another shot of anxiolytic to calm him down, so he might be pretty out of it for a bit.” 

Shiro crosses the room to crouch down in front of him, grinning as he pulls his phone out to film. “Hey, man,” he says. “You up?” 

“Why’re you yelling…?” Adam asks, cracking one eye open. “‘m right here.” 

“Sorry,” Shiro says, more quietly, though he hadn’t really been speaking all that loudly. “You comfortable there?” 

“Mm…” Adam muses, frowning. “No, this is terrible.” 

“Yeah, these chairs aren’t really meant for laying down,” Shiro agrees, fighting not to laugh as he turns his phone camera to show the row of hard seats. “You wanna get up and go back upstairs?”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Adam complains. “Mm…’na...just...sleep on the couch.”

Shiro can’t help snorting at that, as much as he’s trying not to lose his composure. “What couch, buddy?” he asks. “You gotta get back to our quarters for that.”

“No,” Adam says, looking sullen. 

“Sorry,” he says, shrugging. “What do you think about some lunch?”

That makes Adam sit up, though he sways as soon as he does, his eyes unfocusing for a second. “I haven’t eaten in…” he says, and trails off, thinking hard. “Four… days.”

“Don’t think that’s right,” Shiro tells him, standing and offering a hand to help him up. “But it’s been a bit. Let’s get some food in you to offset the drugs, huh?”

“Oh, they gave me a lot of drugs,” Adam says, stumbling as he gets to his feet. “So… so many drugs. I think… seven...teen.” Shiro shakes his head, flipping to the front camera to film them both as Adam leans on his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna let you handle him,” Montgomery says dryly, straightening her glasses. “Seems like you’ve got the situation under control.” 

“Situation normal, Commander,” Adam assures her, and clumsily tries to salute, which makes him overbalance and fall into Shiro’s side. “Whoa, shit, not normal, we’re en...countering some, uh, some… weather.”

Shiro quickly switches to film her as she covers her mouth with one hand and closes her eyes in an excellent attempt to hide her amusement. “Very good, Cadet,” she says. “Shirogane, get him something to eat and get him to bed. I’ll send you the post-surgical notes to look over while he sleeps.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, grinning, and turns the camera back on himself and Adam. “Come on, let’s go,” he adds as he guides Adam out of the waiting room. “Any idea what you want for lunch?”

“Hm,” Adam hums, frowning, but doesn’t offer any actual answer. 

“There’s leftover pizza still,” he offers. “Or cafeteria has, uh, chicken today, I think, or soup.”

“Too early for soup,” Adam says, shaking his head. It’s nearly noon, but Shiro decides he’s not likely to get anywhere by pointing that out. “I want...um…” Adam continues, staring hard at his hand as he slowly runs his thumb across his fingertips. “Pan...cakes. Eggs and pancakes.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t make either of those,” Shiro tells him, “and the cafeteria stopped serving breakfast three hours ago.”

“I can make them,” Adam says. “I’m a good cook, gonna make pancakes and… eggs. Toast. Eggs and toast. And pancakes.”

“Mm, no, you’re not gonna make anything right now,” Shiro says, trying to hide his smile. “You’re still doped up, remember?”

“But,” Adam protests, a whine creeping into his voice.

“I can get you frozen waffles?” Shiro suggests. “That’s sort of like pancakes.”

“Waffles are nothing like pancakes,” he argues. “They… they’re…” He falters, stops walking as he tries to figure out the difference. Shiro turns towards him to film his expression as he finally manages to explain, “They’ve got...squares.” 

Shiro has to take a few seconds to compose himself before he can speak without laughing. “Uh, yeah, that’s pretty much the thing that makes them different,” he agrees. “But they’re made of the same stuff, and they taste just as good.”

“I guess,” Adam says. 

“Tell you what,” Shiro says. “I’ll get you frozen waffles and a smoothie from the smoothie machine.”

“Fuck, yes, I want orange juice,” Adam says, his eyes lighting up, and despite his best intentions, Shiro really can’t help laughing out loud at that.

They stop at the commissary snack shop on the way back to their quarters to get Adam breakfast, and Shiro shakes his head, grinning, as he watches Adam wander around the shop in a daze while they wait for the smoothie machine. His hands hover in front of him, fidgeting aimlessly, his fingers curling and uncurling as he examines the cooler with a kind of bewildered intensity. 

“Whatcha looking at?” Shiro asks, zooming the camera in on his pensive expression.

“There’s so many fruits in here,” Adam replies, looking over at him with a frown. 

Shiro laughs. “What are you doing, counting them?” 

“No, they’re all… all different… in different…” Adam tries to explain, gesturing vaguely with one hand while the other tugs at the zipper of his hoodie. “There’s not the same, pineapples and grapes and… and… what are they called? They’ve got all different numbers of all the fruits.” 

The smoothie machine whirs to a stop and Shiro grabs the cup when the door opens, still filming with one hand. “You want your smoothie?” he asks, snapping the lid on. 

“For me?” Adam asks as he comes over with it. “What kind?” 

“You said you wanted orange,” he says. “Did you forget because you were trying to count the fruit in the fruit cups?” 

“Yeah, I want…” Adam says. “Uh, I want a fruit… this one, it’s got...milk in it.” 

It’s a parfait cup and has yogurt in it, which Shiro makes sure to get a close-up of on his phone. “You want that instead of waffles?” he asks. 

“I want… I don’t like waffles,” Adam says. “I wanna… put it on them.” 

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “You’re gonna put the parfait on your waffles?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, nodding. 

“Alright, whatever you say,” Shiro agrees, shaking his head. “Here, I’ll take that, you drink some of this smoothie, okay?” 

“You’re giving it to me?” Adam asks again, and grins. “Oh, that’s… that’s really nice of you, thanks. Thank you.” 

“No problem?” Shiro offers, putting a hand on Adam’s shoulder and guiding him to the counter so he can pay. 

They take the elevator up to the officers’ quarters, Adam clutching his cup in both hands as he quietly sips his smoothie. “Hey, Shiro,” he says as they reach the door. “You’re a really great friend, you know that?” 

“Don’t get all sappy on me,” Shiro teases, grinning. “You know I have you on camera.” 

He laughs, covering his eyes with one hand as he takes another sip of his smoothie. 

“You sit down,” Shiro tells him. “I’ll throw some of your waffles in the toaster.” 

“Okay,” Adam agrees, and sits down. “It’s fucking cold in here, though.” 

It’s really not, Shiro is pretty sure, since he’s perfectly comfortable in a t-shirt compared to Adam’s hoodie, but then, he’s not the one drinking a smoothie. “You want a blanket or something?” he offers. 

“Mmmmmmmmmmmyeah,” Adam decides after a moment, and wraps one arm around himself while he sips his smoothie. 

Shiro nods and goes to get one from his bed, bringing it over along with the parfait cup and a spoon. “Waffles will still be a minute, but if you wanna eat that while you wait go ahead,” he says, leaning against the counter to wait. 

The idea of eating the parfait with a spoon seems like it’s a hard one to grasp, because Adam picks up both and sets them down again a moment later, looking confused. Shiro tries not to laugh again as he pulls up his camera to take some more video, watching him examine the parfait cup carefully. By the time the waffles are ready, he’s only managed a few bites and still doesn’t seem to have quite figured it out, so Shiro decides he better not complicate things further with more silverware, and brings them out with just a plate and a napkin. 

“You need a hand with that?” he asks after a moment as Adam fumbles to scoop yogurt and strawberries onto his waffles. 

“I got it,” Adam says. “I think the smoothie’s helping, my head’s not so… not so… like the drugs aren’t...in there. The smoothie’s, um… absorbing them, so now they’re in… the smoothie, in my… stomach…”

He puts his spoon down, frowning, one hand pulling absently at his sweatshirt. Shiro raises an eyebrow and sets his phone down on the counter. “Are you gonna puke?” he asks, already moving to help him up. 

“Mmm,” Adam hums, thinking. “Maybe.” 

“Alright, come on,” Shiro tells him, pulling him to his feet and leading him over to the sink. He sways on his feet, leaning heavily against the counter. Barely a moment later, he hiccups and slumps forward to vomit smoothie and chunks of strawberries into the bottom of the sink. Shiro winces. 

“Sorry,” he says thickly, lifting his head.

“You’re fine,” Shiro says, turning on the tap and offering him a napkin to wipe his mouth. “You want some water?”

“Wanna go to bed,” Adam mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Okay,” Shiro agrees, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it halfway. “Rinse your mouth first, you don’t have to drink any if you don’t want.”

Adam nods and takes the glass, spitting out his first mouthful into the sink before drinking the rest. “Tired,” he manages. “‘M gonna sleep.”

“Yeah, let’s get you to bed,” Shiro says, putting an arm around his shoulders to guide him to his part of their partitioned quarters. “I’ll put your food away for later, alright?”

He nods. “Too much drugs,” he mumbles, collapsing into bed and struggling briefly to get under the comforter. “Night, Shiro.” 

“Night, Adam,” Shiro tells him, amused, and waits a few moments by the edge of the partition until he’s asleep, before retreating to the living room to read up on the paperwork Montgomery sent. 


End file.
